The Stalker By My Window
by BattyBigSister
Summary: Elsa never quite realised how alone she wasn't until the day she found out he was watching her. Honestly, it was more than a little creepy - and the fact that he had no choice did not make it better.
1. Chapter 1

Somehow, somewhere I seem to have acquired a taste for Jelsa fanfiction... I'm still not sure if this is an embarrassing affliction or not... and of course since I am struggling as always to find enough to keep me happy I'm stuck the usual remedy for a lack of good reading material: to write it myself. When I say 'good', of course, I mean 'as good as I am able to write'. I am still struggling to produce work of the quality I could before, though the inability isn't as bad as it was now that my medication has been lowered a little.

Anyway, this story isn't very long (comparatively) and doesn't have a _lot_ of plot (there is a longer and more detailed idea I'm toying with, but I want to finish more of the Naruto work before I start anything of that magnitude). It is, however, much longer in general than these first three segments would suggest. Don't worry.

Since writing will (despite my love for it) always be a very long and arduous process for me, reviews help enormously in getting you more updates. Even the simplest ones are deeply effective.

* * *

 **The Stalker By My Window**

The soft moonbeams trickled in through the rectangular window, falling in dainty silver patterns on the floor. Only a sliver of the huge white mass was visible through the bound diamond panes of glass. It cast its soft milky light like honey into the quiet of the night, tumbling inwards over the cushions of the window seat and the supple beech floorboards. The rest room was at peace in silent reverie. Nothing disturbed the gentle caress of the darkness as it softly swept over the patterned furniture. The night breathed like a living creature, dancing in a gentle peaceful step that was known only to a few.

Somewhere in the deep folds of her pillows, the sleeping face of a girl lay at total rest. Her breath ghosted over the back of a dainty hand curled protectively near her upturned nose, but otherwise not a muscle stirred in her delicate heart-shaped features. As the white fluffy linen mountains rose around her, two thick white blonde plaits weaved their way through them ending in identical splashes of thin ribbon. Faint freckles graced her very fair skin, but the was relaxed in the deepest part of sleep.

There was no reason why she woke... or at least there shouldn't have been. Elsa's large pale eyes fluttered open only momentarily, her body waking more by instinct than sense. The room was just as it had been before, calm and still. There was nothing unusual anywhere. However... just in the instant before her sleep-drugged haze claimed her again, she thought she saw someone crouched on her window sill: a lonely face watching her in the moonlight.

When the fourteen year woke properly in the morning, it was unusually cold in her room. She pushed away the thick eiderdown, her bare feet hitting the ground with a muted beat. Her elegant empire line nightgown fell back into place down her bare legs as she moved haltingly towards the window, rubbing her eyes with a sleepy yawn.

Outside the world was covered a thick blanket of soft freezing white, sparkling in the early morning sun. Her expression fell. The muscles in her jaw slacked and her eyes cast themselves downwards, becoming oddly gloomy at the sight. A sigh escaped her and she turned away, making her way towards her washstand in an effort to prepare for the day.

A cloud shifted in the sky and the window behind her erupted unnoticed into a glittering mess of gold, refracting in the early morning sun. Every pane of the oddly shaped window was covered in a thin coating of frost, painting a thousand tiny pictures that shattered the light into golden jewels. The whole effect would be gone by midday. Elsa never noticed.


	2. Chapter 2

At seventeen Elsa had become even more withdrawn. She barely smiled and spoke even less often. On a day to day basis, she saw no one except for her father and sometimes her mother. She ate her meals in the dining room only after everyone had already left and studied by herself in the library while the maids cleaned her room. Even then, there were guards at the door with the strict instructions to keep her undisturbed, particularly by her sister and even themselves.

Books were her only escape. It didn't what it was: fact or fantasy. By immersing herself in a world outside of the same familiar walls, she could escape – just for a little while – the confines of her daily life. She could vicariously enjoy outlandish adventures, discover foreign lands with customs that were strange and otherworldly to her, immerse herself in the history, learn of new skills... and never once did she have to feel afraid.

So it wasn't a surprise that the new candle brought to her room that morning was already flickering in its last dying light. Her bare feet were stretched over the royal purple covers of her bed, the crocus patterned hem of her nightgown woven around her ankles. Tight French braiding wrapped loosely around her shoulders, she barely noticed the way her eyes were already straining to make out the words of the stylised Italian cursive in front of her: love poetry – or at least romantic poems, an unusual choice for her. On her bedside sat several thick volumes of European history and a small paper-bound commentary on the Italian peasant class, all written in French. There was also an Italian opera, complete with musical scores, an old Latin theological text, a set of very large and very dusty Norse tombs on local magic that she recently finished and a Prussian guide to Baltic sea ports that she probably wouldn't have gotten to before tomorrow even if the candle had held out longer. German was not her favourite language and she found she got unusually drained if she focused on it for long periods of time.

Her mother thought her already asleep, she tended to check from the door as it got darker, so Elsa had lost track of time. The slumbering castle around her, filled with its gently drifting shadows and tiny speaks of dying embers in darkened fireplaces, did little as a reminder that she had promised herself 'just one more chapter' for the fifth time that night about seven chapters ago.

She turned a page with mindless automation even as the words started to swim. Her brow winkled thoughtfully, pale well conditioned skin contorting and she rubbed her eyes realising for the first time how tired she had become. Her graze drifted from the yellowing paper, meandering absent-mindedly around the room, taking in the distorted rosemåling **( _1_ )** on the sweeping outlines of the romantically-styled furniture and bordered wallpaper. Only the window was clearly visible in the encroaching shadow, the cloudy night sky beyond it casting just enough illumination to keep its outline clear.

Just for moment though, the light hitting it seemed a little strange. It was like there was a new shadow hitting the glass from somewhere. Before her brow even had time to wrinkle further in contemplation however the candle gave an alarming splutter and finally choked out.

Elsa fumbled for a bookmark from the beside and set away her reading material. Without taking her eyes of the window, she inched back on the mattress and tugged the covers out from under herself. As she slipped back under them however, her head nestling into the crook of her arm amongst the soft down of the pillow, she decided at last that it was just a trick of her over-tired eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

 **( _1_ ) **A traditional style of Norwegian art and decoration, as evidenced pretty much _everywhere_ in Arendelle Castle.


	3. Chapter 3

Her parents were dead. She was alone, unsafe and unprotected.

She was alone. There was no one who could help her any more.

She was alone.

She missed the soft way her mother spoke to her about nothing in particular; missed the way she would bring her a warm drink and sit with her for a while, just to talk and keep her company. She missed the way she would smile and soothe her, even from across the room after Elsa had insisted all physical contact between them ceased. She missed the warmth of her hugs that she had not felt for far too long.

She missed her father's encouraging hand on her shoulder too. She missed his firm instruction. She missed his careful guidance. She missed his gentle reassurance that she could cope, that everything would be fine.

Because without him, she wasn't sure it would. In fact she knew it wouldn't. It couldn't be. She couldn't cope alone... and she was all alone. Alone with this secret, alone with this burden... and no one... _no one_ must ever know.

… and yet one day they would find out. They had too. How long could she stop them from discovering what was wrong with her? How long would it be until someone stumbled upon what they must not? How long until someone got hurt? How long until she did something that could not be undone? How long... until she... killed...?

She needed her mother. She needed her father. She needed her parents. They could not be gone. They could not be...

She could not feel her legs or fingers or face except for an uncomfortable pain in her skin. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She couldn't even try to move. There was only the cold, the biting chill that dug into her flesh. It was unnatural, worse than any cold she had ever known. It was like the blood in her very veins had stopped. All she could feel was the painful weight of her own lungs and the endless grief in her chest.

She sat slumped against the door of her cell and did not move. Dimly she was aware of maids outside bringing food and taking it away again, of the room darkening and lightening again, of Gerda knocking on the door to beg her to eat or at least let them in to stoke the fire... She felt the cold. She heard her sister's voice... and that was hardest of all.

It was her sister's voice that finally brought the tears. That made her fall forward onto her raised knees and made her chest move in strangled silent cries. Anna's voice weakened her until she toppled lifelessly into the thick frost on her floor, tears freezing upon her cheeks.

It was all her fault. Her baby sister was shut outside alone, lost in confusion... and it was all Elsa's fault. Anna was deprived of her sister, of her best friend and now of her parents without a word of explanation. She had no one left to look out for her. No one to hold her. No one to make sure she would be okay... and it was all Elsa's fault.

If Elsa had been... normal... she could leave this room and hold her, tell her it was all going to be okay. If Elsa had been normal, she would have been with her in the first place and Anna would never have been alone to begin with. Perhaps, if Elsa had been normal her mother and father would never have left them either. Perhaps they would all be together now, doing normal things, laughing, having dinner, building snowmen in the normal way... Perhaps..

Elsa had taken that away from all of them; from Anna, from their parents, from herself... and she could not make it right.

Her little sister was all alone...

...and so was she...


	4. Chapter 4

Elsa was not aware of when she woke up, but at some point she noticed that she was on the bed with the eiderdown drawn over her body. Almost as soon as she realised this, she panicked. Kicking away her coverings, she let them tumble off the bed as she raced to the door, throwing herself against the wooden frame and yanking on the handle. It wouldn't budge. She grasped the handle tighter, pulling harder. It still did not move. Elsa paused, catching her breath. After a few more experimental pulls, she finally let herself calm a little, backing away a step or two and trying not to slip on a patch of ice under the soft soles of her slippers. Her fist curled tightly in the folds of her heavy skirt and her heart was still beating at a crazy pace.

Still... it looked like the entryway was frozen shut. Frost spiked outwards across the entire wall, but it was worse nearest the door. It had spread into the wood, warping it out of shape so much that it was firmly jammed and twisted into the frame, looking almost impossible to budge. She raised a hand against the jutting part of the door jamb, noticing how the frost around it was perfectly crystallised. It looked as if it had remained entire undisturbed since it had formed... a good sign.

With a quizzical frown, Elsa reached into a hidden pocket in her skirt, pulling out a long golden key. She forced it into the stiff lock with some effort. She couldn't tell if the metal tumblers were frozen or rusted inside the mechanism, but they certainly weren't moving easily. It took several tries and the use of both hands, but after a brief struggle she finally achieved a satisfying click as she forced just enough of them into place. Instantly she twisted the key the other way, throwing the latch bolt back into its groove. She repeated this procedure several times, locking and unlocking the door, until the key turned smoothly once again and she felt safe enough pulling it back out and replacing it in her pocket.

It was only then that she finally allowed herself a heavy sigh of relief, her breath fanning out as a tumbling white mist in the icy air as her head feel back and her eyes closed. Her heart gradually slowed to its normal pace and she felt herself relax again entirely. For a long, terrifying moment, when she woke up in her bed with no memory of how she got there, she had been afraid that someone had moved her... that someone had come into the room and seen...

However with everything still locked and frozen, there was no way any one could possibly have come through that door. She had the only key after all. The only other two copies in existence had gone to the bottom of the ocean when...

She turned away abruptly, her skirt sweeping up some loose snow on the floor, as she eyed the damage to the rest of the room. It was... quite severe. There was thick drift of white on the floor and the frost itself had eaten into a lot of the wall, adding unnecessary moisture into something designed to stay mostly dry. A harsh jagged star-shape exploded outwards across the room, glittering with melting crystals. As it thawed, she knew from bitter experience, the damage would get even worse. She gripped the sleeves of her blue day dress, hugging her middle and shifting her weight on her feet as she looked around held a silent inventory.

A lot of the furniture would need to be replaced, the wood in it having suffered rather badly from the frost, so would some of her books and other possessions by the looks of things. Even the wall paper looked as if it was ready to give in. This was the kind of thing her parents had always helped her sort out before and even then, the damage had never been this severe. She didn't know how she was going to get this passed the servants. Probably she would have to make do with what she had for a while and just hope it didn't break completely as she gradually replaced things one by one, making it looks like the whim of spoiled princess. Certainly no one could come in here for quite some time.

The window rattled awkwardly and she glanced at it. Somehow it had come off the latch. Obviously one couldn't open every pane on a window of that size, but there were several small groups of panes that opened inwards together, like miniature windows in the larger structure. One of the larger ones at the top of the triangle shape hung open like that gaping maw of some hideous snow monster, frost and icicles clinging to its frame and dripping down onto the window seat. Later, when it had a chance to thaw a little more, she would have to fetch the pole and try to force it shut with the obligatory series of complicated balancing gymnastics that came with such a task. For now she would just have to leave it be. It wasn't like the room would get any colder.

At least from what she could see the remainder of the fenestration still seemed in good working order, surprisingly free of ice and snow. Most of the damage in the room was nearer the door anyway. For some peculiar reason that she could not imagine now it just seemed to be that one opening that had borne the brunt of an icy rage. Vaguely she wondered what her problem with it might have been.

Turning away slightly, her eyes lingered on the bed. She also did not know how she had ended up there. The last she remembered she had been crying softly by the door, feeling her sister's presence on the other side. Perhaps she had somehow staggered into the covers by instinct when she had been too tired to think straight. It was possible. Though she was rather surprised she hadn't even tried to undress at all in the process. She didn't think she had ever gotten into bed with her shoes on before...

At least no one had come in and seen what she had done. That was the main thing.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose with her chilled fingers, she frowned and regarded the door a second time. It remained resolutely immobile, a seemingly permanent barrier between her and the outside world. A corner of her mouth twitched at the thought. She rather liked the idea, but sadly it just wouldn't do.

Steeling her shoulders, she twisted the handle all the way and braced herself against the wall with one foot. She gave it a sharp tug... and then another... Finally she was forced to bend her knee and elbows almost all the way, pushing back all at once with an almighty heave.

The door flung out of the frame, sending her reeling backwards. She caught herself before she fell, the wind forced from her body in a huff of white fog. It was undignified, and she was sure she would bruise, but the door was now open.

A long frightened moment passed without a movement from Elsa. She barely dared to even breathe. Carefully, her heart throbbing painfully inside her, she finally crept back towards the opening, fingers gripping the frame as she stole a long glance into the corridor.

Relief washed over as she realised it was deserted. Anna had obviously left some time ago and it seemed like none of the servants had been alerted by the noise from her room. Bubbling with relief, she took a moment to compose herself, brushing down her skirts with one hand. She stepped forwards, stockings and slippers carefully digging into the worn plush of the carpet and turning quickly, closed the door behind her and locking it tight immediately. It looked like the enchantment on the wood had done its work too. There was no trace on the outside of the door of the storm that had happened within, even the warping in the wood was barely noticeable. **(** _ **1**_ **)**

Glancing left and right, her shoulders stiff, and hands folded awkwardly in front of her middle, she moved down the hallway, ignoring the overwhelming urge to turn back. Her luck held as her little sister seemed to have retreated to one of her regular haunts, at least she didn't see her anywhere close by. She did however find one of the maids emptying a grate in a nearby guest room. With a barely a half-formed sentence, she sent her scurrying downstairs to fetch the overseer of the household staff, moving inside the room to wait by the dusty fireplace.

To her surprise, it barely took a few minutes before she saw Kai's familiar angular features hurrying towards were she sat in an ornamental chair. Tight on his heels, followed the spindly frame of Gerda, a small middle-aged woman with grey hair in a tight bun under her cap. Both of them wore the dark green velvet uniform indistinguishable from the rest of the household staff, though they were among the most senior members. Kai's brown knitted vest and black over-knee breeches were swelled to bursting, his flouncy neck kerchief emerging from under a bulbous nose and reams of an otherwise square chin, whereas Gerda was leaner and taller with a long nose and pinched eye line. Somehow though in the dark colours of her long dress and fitted jacket she always managed to be the less noticeable of the pair, although she was no less warm-hearted and kindly towards those in her care.

"Your royal highness," Kai began, his eyes drifting over her pale frame in concern, "Do you..."

Elsa raised a hand quickly, interrupting him swiftly before he could derail her. "There will be... papers?" she stumbled over the words, gasping a little as she worked out what she wanted to say, "Orders...decrees? Official documents? Permits to authorise, reports to read, sanctions to... sanction..." She shrugged her shoulders helplessly, as her staff looked at her blankly, waving her hands in grasping circular motions as if that might help them understand. "Some kind of paperwork that needs doing by now, I presume... to do with running the castle... or the kingdom...?"

The frown on the manservant's kindly face returned and deepened considerably. "Well..." he started, smoothing down the front of his jacket over his stout frame, "Yes, I suppose, but..."

"Please have them sent to my room," she told him firmly, rising from the chair, "All of them. I'll see to them there." Her task complete, she exhaled slowly and softly, turning to leave. Almost as soon as she tried though, a sudden wave of dizziness arrested her movements, and she steadied herself on the wall, pressing a hand to her stomach. Kai stretched out his hand in alarm and Gerda bounded forwards several steps, but Elsa arrested them with a look.

She let out a slow sigh. The last time she had eaten was a distant foggy memory and, now that the adrenaline was wearing thin, it seemed the effects were starting to show on her body. "And... maybe... some tea as well, please?" she added carefully, "Apple and camomile, sweetened with honey, like mother used to have."

Kai nodded slowly, watching her with concern. "Of course, ma'am."

Gerda was a little braver. "Would your royal highness also care for some soup?" she inquired gently, inching towards her in the same why one might when trying not to alarm a frightened animal, "We have a lovely winter stew downstairs. There is also some roast mutton left, I think. Perhaps I should have your bath filled too? The girls and I can pop into your dressing room and..." Her hand reached out to touch the princess' shoulder.

Instantly Elsa recoiled, stumbling rapidly backwards out of the room and into the corridor. " _No!_ " she snapped, batting away the touch. "I... I... mean..." she paused, recovering herself a little at the sight of the woman's alarm, "No, thank you. Just the tea will be fine."

Gerda dropped her hand, her eyes troubled as she regarded her princess with motherly concern. "Alright..." she nodded tenderly, sounding a little deflated, "Perhaps just a jug of warm water for your washstand, then ma'am? And a change of clothes?" The tone was very gentle, her voice layered with concern. "I can have some supper brought to your room later too, if you like? We can leave it by the door if you prefer...?"

Relieved Elsa nodded, drawing away down the corridor. She dismissed them with a wave of her hand and turned, practically fleeing back to her room with as much dignity as she could muster. Left alone in the guest room, Gerda and Kai turned to one another with identical expressions of worried concern.

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 **( _1_ )** Not official cannon, in case you're wondering, but this is the only logical explanation I can think of for why Anna didn't get her back frozen to the door in the last scene of 'Do You Wanna Build A Snowman'. No clue how he got the enchantment, or if it is an enchantment per say rather than something like magic wood, but Elsa's father was on close relations with magic trolls, so perhaps he had other connections too.


	5. Chapter 5

The ticking of the old grandfather clock was really starting to grate on her nerves. _Tick tock tick tock_... a constant reminder of the time she spent each day buried up to her neck in official documents. She never had time to herself any more... She never went outside. She never read anything for pleasure. If she wasn't pouring over reports and petitions from merchants and politicians, she was drafting letters to foreign diplomats and kings about trade routes, treaties and diplomatic envoys... or else she was scouring old volumes of her father and grandfather's decrees double then triple checking every decision she made: researching past traditions, learning of historic ties, evaluating ancient claims and generally making sure that no choice of hers accidentally stepped on the ancient toes of some long standing rule. That nothing she did somehow came back to haunt her or her kingdom. Hoping against hope that she wasn't making an endless list of errors that would somehow end up in disaster.

Like the brass plate of the pendulum she swung back and forth between the library and her bedroom, between sleep and paperwork, in an endless cycle of desperation and hope. Everything she did just left her feeling more unworthy of the task she had been left, more unable to fulfil the expectations of legacy that hovered over her.

 _Tick tock tick_... She blinked, trying to work out if she was reading this particular paragraph for the first or second time. Her head hurt; in fact her brain felt just about ready to turn to sludge and pour straight out of her ears. Straightening her back, she held the long treatise about Arendelle's free trade with Corona up to catch the fading light from the window, groaning as an extra section unfolded from the back as she did so.

It was getting a little colder in the library and the fire had died back over the ash-covered logs to just a small huddle of flame right under the chimney. Even though the sun wasn't quite down yet, winter frost had started to build up over the panes and the shadows were growing long over the ancient hardwood floorboards. The ancient bookcases looked darker by the second, the white on the chess table was starting to grey and the armillary sphere in the corner was far from as bright and shiny-looking as it had been that morning.

Elsa was not yet ready to get up and light the lamps though. She sat on the long pink chaise lounge, tucked neatly in font of a small collapsible table bought in by the servants. Piles of books, leather-bound folders and loose paperwork littered every nearby surface, and her handwritten notes and drafts were overflowing from the drawers of her traditionally carved wooden writing slope. Even though it had now been over a year, her plain blonde braid was swept into an unadorned bun behind a simple cap and her body enveloped in heavy black velvet. Her eyes were tired, the skin around them saggy, bruised and worn and her pale skin had lost even more colour. She was exhausted, but she never thought of taking a break until she finished what work she had set herself to do for the day.

Her lips thinned as she tried to mouth some of the words described in the small script at the bottom of the document and she lowered it again, reaching instead for a book that balanced on top of the pens and ink compartments. She flipped it open on a page devoted to understanding legalese, laying out the trade treatise out for later inspection the thin adjustable surface of heavily veneered wood that was supposed to support her papers as she wrote.

Somehow, she didn't notice how, another loose piece of paper floated to the floor. It lay there by her foot half covering her black velvet slippers. Her bottom lip folded in irritation as it tickled ankle even through the thick woollen stockings. After a couple of minutes she gave up with a glower and stooped to pick up the leaf, still scanning the book in her other hand... Then something caught her eye. She stopped, looking closer at the fallen paper.

Two strangely misshapen figures waved up at her with oversized pink hands. One seemed to be wearing a bright green triangle as a dress and the other one the same in bright blue. The green-clad creature had two thick red scribbles on either side of its round smiling head and the other a long yellow steak pointed straight upwards on hers. On either side of the two characters, a childish hand had carefully retraced Norse Runes pre-drawn by an adult in pencil. There were two words, one for each figure. 'Anna' and 'Elsa', it read.

Slowly, Elsa put down the book, using the treatise as a place-mark as she reached for the fallen paper. It was one of Anna's old paintings. It must have fallen out of one of the little wooden compartments of her writing slope. She gripped the picture tenderly by the edges, a complicated wistful expression washing over her face as she studied the crudely drawn image with the same care one might have used for ancient Greek sculptures and Venetian ceiling paintings.

Elsa had a whole collection of her sister's childhood artwork stored in her bedroom, along with dried flower chains, coloured pebbles, stuffed fishing trophies, home-made lures and tip-up flags hand-painted with garish child-like designs _ **(1)**_ and a few terribly haphazard-looking cross-stitch samplers. They were relics of those days when they had first been separated. Anna had forever been making little presents and pushing them under door. If they wouldn't fit through, she pestered their mother into taking them to her older sister instead, all in an attempt to reclaim Elsa's suddenly absent attention.

At first the older princess had tried to send something back, even if it was just a note or a message, but each time she did it just resulted in Anna racing to knock on her bedroom door once again, brimming with hope that this time she could convince her sister to come out and play. It wasn't like it took much to begin with. The slightest suggestion of a horse ride or fishing trip and Anna would be there, tentatively inviting Elsa to come along. If the kitchen staff made a fruit pie or even a cake for dessert, Anna would be going on and on through the keyhole about how Elsa had to try some because it was so delicious. If there was the slightest piece of interesting news, Anna's face would be pressed to the floor relaying it all through the crack under the door regardless of whether it was something new or whether Anna had – as usual – been the last to hear and the topic was already older than some of the portraits in the gallery.

The worst times were when it snowed. Should the slightest covering of white fall out of the sky Anna's little fists would be pounding on her door furtively demanding if she might 'wanna build a snowman' with no idea at all that those words had never ever had anything to do with snowfall _outside_ the castle. Those had been a special request, a secret signal, for something only Elsa could provide... and hearing it again, like that, stung her straight to the core every time. It served as a painful reminder of exactly why she could no longer play with her sister, of exactly why they had to be separated and must always be apart. It was the embodiment of everything they had lost... and Anna did not even know.

In the end, unwilling to keep torturing her sister with false hope, Elsa had stopped acknowledging any of the little gifts altogether. With the passing of time and no sign that any one cared, eventually the presents had stopped coming at all. Everything Elsa had received she had kept though, filling odd drawers with keepsakes, taking them out sometimes just to look at them and remember...

She placed the picture carefully back on her table and smoothed it out gently, before tucking it back into one of the tiny compartments of her writing set. Picking up the treatise and the book again, she breathed a long sigh as the ticking once again started on her nerves. The clock would go. That was final.

* * *

 **(** _ **1**_ **)** Turns out Queen Iduna (King Agnarr's wife. Mother of Queen Elsa and Princess Anna) was passionate about the family tradition of ice fishing (the practise of fishing through a hole in a surface of ice) and passed this on to both her daughters. Check the Frozen wiki or the ebook version of _Anna & Elsa: Memories and Magic_ if you don't believe me. I don't know a lot details, and I haven't had a chance yet to read the book myself, but as far as I do know even with Elsa mainly indoors I can't see any reason why Iduna couldn't have taken Anna on some of her fishing trips (at least for a few more years while she was little)... or indeed taken Elsa occasionally to get her out of the castle and enjoying fresh air in a fairly isolated place were she couldn't be a danger to anybody. It's just unlikely that she would have taken both girls together after the accident. If you have read it and know differently, please let me know. I'd love to hear from you.

Oh and if you don't know what a tip-up is... I don't either really. I just know its some device with a lever or spring and a flag on it sometimes used in ice fishing. Presumably the flag 'tips up' or something to let you know when you've caught a fish, I don't know. I'm really not sure I care either.


	6. Chapter 6

She couldn't sleep. It was hopeless.

It was two years since her parents were lost at sea. People were becoming ever more impatient for an official coronation. She couldn't put it off much longer. There were increasingly strongly worded demands that the event should take place, even subtly worded threats to her authority. Some people would occasionally refuse to acknowledge her as Queen of Arendelle, because well... she wasn't yet Queen of Arendelle. She was Crown Princess, while the Crown itself hovered in limbo around her.

Conspiracy theories abounded everywhere. People were suggesting she was dead, her sister too, that some foreign power was secretly ruling Arendelle in her name. Most hurtfully of all, people were casting suspicion on the good names of her parents, suggesting that she wasn't really their daughter. They said that this was why she was unwilling to hold a coronation, that she was too ashamed because she wasn't really of royal blood.

Even Kai and Gerda were starting to cast her long, doleful looks on the few occasions she actually saw them. They seemed to chalk most of her odd behaviour up to grief over the loss of her parents, but sometimes they just seemed glad to realise she hadn't somehow died in their care.

Most things were left outside on her room on a silver trolley just outside the door: her meals, clean laundry, toiletries and a huge endless stream of long reports by local officials, royal mail and any other paperwork that needed her attention... The list was endless. Only when she was sure nobody was about did the trolley disappear to emerge later on with everything from empty plates to her dirty chamberpot, used wash water and of course... completed paperwork. If the guards didn't see her enter and leave the library occasionally, it would be easy to believe that some one else had done away with her and taken over her life.

Heck, it wasn't like it was worth much. If someone out there actually wanted to spend every second from the moment they woke up until finally fell asleep in total isolation working on the most boring of state documents then they were welcome to all of it with her compliments. Well... maybe not. It wasn't as if she could just leave Anna and Arendelle to their fate after all. She had to take care of them.

Still... she couldn't actually envision the idea of holding the coronation itself. It was ludicrous. She would have to invite people into the castle. The bishop for one and... witnesses... and she would have to play host to dignitaries from foreign nations. There would be a mountain of old rooms to be cleaned out and they would need to provide food... entertainment... Musicians, chefs, maids... They would need more servants... many more servants hired months in advance to get everything ready... People would be milling about everywhere, uncontrolled, doing... things... Nowhere would be safe.

The mere thought had her clutching at her bedclothes, her face pale, her palms sweaty, her heart racing at a thousand miles a minute and tears in her eyes. She definitely couldn't sleep now.

Sitting up, she pushed one of her legs out of the covers with an idea of going to her dressing room to splash her face from her wash stand. A yawn overtook her and she reached for the candlestick from her bedside table. Instead she suddenly had an armful of dense drapery. Sputtering she tried to push it aside, angry at the very person who installed the useless purple canopy she never used. Freeing herself with an angry yank, she lost her balance, sliding out of the covers to land on the floor with almighty thump and a bruised behind.

There was a laugh. Elsa started up in alarm. She could have sworn... just for a moment... A deep baritone had filled the air around her, the sort she had not really heard since her father died. Of course, it was gone the minute she moved.

"Who's there?" she scrambled to her feet, looking around wildly. She pushed her thick braid over her shoulder, peering through the dark with narrowed eyes.

There was no one in the room. It was dark, but she could tell. The familiar corners mapped out just as they always had, shadows fell around her exactly as she knew them. She ran to her concealed dressing room, pushing aside the hidden wall. Nothing. There was no one in there either.

Taking a step backwards she stumbled, eyes wide with rising panic. Her arms hugged her flimsy nightdress tighter against her skin, her bare feet cold even on the thickest part of the rug. Blonde strands fell freely over her face, the majority of the messy braid hanging heavily between her shoulder blades. She barely breathed, still glancing around.

The moon was full in the sky outside her window with the merest wisps of grey cloud in the midnight sky around it. Stars twinkled brightly in the black forever. It was beautiful. Elsa didn't care much for it right at that moment.

Her eyes fixed on a spot outside where she could have sworn she saw... No, it was definitely there. The longer she looked the more certain she was. There on one of the castle walls, just close enough to have a perfect view of her whole bedroom... was a man, even paler than she was with hair as white as snow.

He stared back at her, his own eyes widening as he realised she had spotted him. Raising his hands in supplication, he backed away, leaving heavy footfalls in the fresh powder. Even from this distance she could see his mouth forming words.

"Guards!" she screamed, clutching her skirts and racing to the door, "We've got an intruder in the castle! There's someone climbing the walls! _Hurry!_ "


	7. Chapter 7

_Conceal._

Elsa slowly traced her steps across the maroon-red rug, feeling the way her heavy black skirts moved with every step. She kept her back straight, her breathing even and did her best to look as dignified as she could. The mud-green walls swam away before her, taking most of their portraits and curios with them. Her slippers hit the hard in-laid oak. She paused.

 _Don't feel._

Her eyes locked onto the portrait of her father above her. His familiar features calmed her as they always did. She look straight into the painted youthful eyes and each step she took remained as measured as the first.

 _Don't let it show._

She stood still in front of the side board. With slow deliberation, she reached out. Her fingers traced the coolness of the brass and china on the table. Carefully, she lifted them into the air.

 _Don't... let them know._

Cold spread outwards from her fingers, solidifying. Pressure fixed her hands.

Elsa dropped the ornaments as if they burned. The bounced, rolling away as they hit the oak. Her gaze locked on the ice that shattered off their spinning forms. Disappointed, the skin on her face suddenly felt hot. Her eyes screwed up involuntarily. She spun away, fleeing back towards the other end of the library.

This couldn't be happening. This could not... be...

It was nearly the end of winter. There were only months left. She had to get this right. With a sob, she flopped down onto one of the pink fireside chairs, her head in her hands. Staring listlessly at the pattern on the rug, her mouth twisted into a thin line as her shoulders shook with the effort not to cry.

Elsa would have preferred a winter ceremony. At least that way she had a chance of passing off any mishaps as the peculiarities of the weather. Unfortunately for her however Arendelle had a long standing tradition of high-summer coronations, dating back to some ancient mythological superstition and an alleged prophesy about eternal snow. The twisted humour of a situation were she was becoming the queen of a people that feared unnatural weather changes wasn't lost on Elsa either.

She had thought originally that the season was going to be her only problem. It turned out Fate had another bum card to throw her way.

An even older tradition graced Arendelle's mythos that for the coronation to be valid the orb and spectre of the realm must be held in the monarch's bare hands for the ceremony. To be fair this made even less sense than the _all-coronations-must-happen-in-summer_ rule. The covering of hands was certainly was not a point deliberated upon very much in crowning of rulers of other countries. It was just one of those little peculiar traditions that made Arendelle... well, Arendelle.

For her part, Elsa hadn't thought anything of the practice at all until she was actually trying to prepare for the ceremony. She had picked up a candlestick and a little round china pot, trying to pretend she was there before the bishop and her people, with everyone looking expectantly up at her, watching her, scrutinising her every move... She panicked... and before long she started too long for the right to wear gloves.

However the ritual had to be done properly, at least if she ever wanted to reign without people questioning her right to the throne. Endless generations of her ancestors (and the line of kings her ancestors' had originally overthrown and those kings overthrown by the later overthrown kings) had all held the time honoured symbols of office bare handed without any problems. Why wouldn't they? To the best of her knowledge none of them risked accidentally revealing their darkest secrets to the world in the process.

She had thought it was a temporary thing, that she could get the problem under control if she practised enough. Things had been going so well after all...

After the incident with the intruder she had been forced to treble the guard. They had never found the man, but there was no way she could risk someone getting so close to her bed chamber again... The new guards had been … an adjustment, but she had managed. There hadn't been any 'incidents' she needed to worry about for a while. For about a week or two, she had actually started to relax.

Then there had been that embarrassing demand about trade embargoes from the Duke of Wesleton. Apparently he wanted to know _why_ if there was a ruling sovereign in Arendelle said monarch seemed to be deliberately and vindictively hampering his duchy from openly pursuing more trade with the kingdom... and (and this was the real snub) if there wasn't a ruling Queen of Arendelle any more, then perhaps he should be permitted to trade freely and privately with any and all merchants that could found, as one would in any other free state... which was official speak for "Wah! I want more moneys!"

She certainly hadn't been slighting Wesleton. Truthfully she wasn't even certain what he so desperately wanted to buy. As far as she knew Arendelle's exports consisted of timber, ice, a few fish, more ice and Wandering Oaken's special home-made athlete's foot cream (which she was told was prized by the mining industry for its use in dissolving rocks). The Duchy already pursued trade with all of the above. What else did they produce that was worth buying? Pastries from Flangendorfers? They tended to go stale in a couple of days anyway, too little time to get them to Wesleton even by ship.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter now. Even if she authorised extra trading it would just look like she was trying to hide something. The only way to actually fix the mess without any possibility of it blowing up in her face later was to put the authority of the crown beyond question... and finally hold the dreaded coronation.

It couldn't be too bad, she had reasoned. She had managed to get used to the first increase in staff without too many problems. Another temporary one – highly organised and planned with the new servants duties laid out in the minutest detail – might just be manageable, so long as she kept everything properly controlled. There followed several weeks of drawing up duty rotas and micromanaging castle cleaning details for the entire household and its new additions, in particular who would be allowed where at what times. If she knew where everyone was, Elsa reasoned, it would be easy to avoid them.

Gerda had not exactly welcomed the interference in what was technically her job, but even she was utterly relieved that they were finally holding a coronation. Her ecstasy was such that she allowed herself be mollified with only minimal muttering about the young Queen's strange idiosyncrasies.

All in all, up until that first trial run of the coronation in the library, Elsa had thought she was doing okay. There had been no more sign of strange intruders in the castle, so she presumed the new guards were doing their job. Excluding Wesleton's odd grumblings, foreign policy was at a high-point unprecedented since before her father's death and the reforms Elsa suggested were going down a storm in Arendelle itself. Best of all the young queen had successfully avoided doing anything 'unnatural' in almost a month. She had actually allowed herself to believe things were going well.

She was a prize idiot... officially. As in: if Arendelle had ever held a competition to discover who their biggest idiot was, all she had to do was show up and she'd take the prize. Somewhere in her official correspondence there should probably be a letter from the Academy of Idiots in Moronsville offering her an advanced diploma and a cash reward. The people of Dumb Town had just found their newest member. The collegiate of Half-Wits were swearing her in. She was absolutely monumentally astronomically stupid... and she knew it.

Every time she looked down and saw ice covering her hands, Elsa just wanted to call off the whole thing. No ceremony. No party. No guests. No people. Nothing.

Unfortunately for her, that was impossible. The invitations were long since sent. Royalty, notables and diplomats from across the continent had the date circled on their calendars. Replies were streaming in. Gifts for the new Queen were arriving on a fairly regular basis. People were making travel arrangements and shipping supplies into town in advance of the big day. Kai was running himself ragged going to down to fetch endless items from the dock every afternoon. Gerda was in a frenzy planning the decorations and the catering. There was wine shipped in from France, fruit from Spain, preserved game from Russia, ornate decorations from Germany and array of expensive chocolate from Belgium. Someone, she had a feeling it was the Royal Family of Corona after the tragedy of her parents on their way to their princess's wedding, had even arranged for one of Europe's best orchestras to provide music for the night.

There was no possible reason, no plausible excuse, for Elsa to delay or cancel now. There was no possibility of just telling everyone she didn't feel like a ceremony this summer and would they mind trying again next year? One couldn't just cancel a coronation for anything less than death, it was a sacred appointment. Nothing was allowed to get in its way. Even faining an illness, which wasn't too far from the truth, would be impossible at this stage.

If it was supposed to something minor, then once they arrived the guests would simply hang around for an extra day or two, expecting the coronation to take place as soon as she had recovered enough to stand upright. That would actually be worse, leaving them bored, curious and unsupervised in her castle... prone to stumbling on all sorts of hidden secrets about their host.

A more critical fake 'illness' would actually increase – not decrease – the demands for a coronation to a level of extreme urgency, as people would start to worry about her potentially dying uncrowned. Besides if no one ever saw a doctor go up to the castle to treat her, they would get suspicious. It wasn't as if she could just ask a physician to just pretend she was ill to fool the people. They would want an explanation as to why and she couldn't exactly give them one... nor could she guarantee they would try to extort her with blackmail or let something slip. It would be a situation just waiting to blow up the rumour mill so massively that her reputation, and consequentially authority, might actually never fully recover from the scandal.

Besides she couldn't just abandon her duties like that. She needed to take care of Anna and Arendelle as her parents would have wished. She needed to be Queen for the sake of their legacy. Anna could not yet look after herself and she certainly couldn't run the country. Elsa needed to protect her. She had too. So she just had to suck it up and get through one ceremony's worth of ritual and posturing.

However, her 'quandary' was not getting any better, if anything it was noticeably worse now than when she had first organised the coronation. She could no longer go anywhere without her gloves and was starting to have to use them for the simplest tasks. At this rate she would soon never be able to take them off again... and that was going to be a problem, a very serious problem, especially as far as the bare handling of the orb and sceptre were concerned.

At least, Elsa told herself, it would only be a day. Thanks to a happy accident in scheduling many of her guests were obliged to go straight on to a diplomatic function held in Oslo... Well, if anyone was being truthful... and they weren't, at least some of them did.

Elsa knew for a fact that a sizeable proportion of her more frivolous guests had little to no interest in the politics discussed in Oslo or anywhere else. They were just using it as a convenient excuse to get out of her sleepy little peasant province and back into some kind of 'High Society' faster than courtesy would otherwise allow. Oslo had social soirées and dinner parties and interesting people to meet, at least by comparison with Arendelle which barely had sheep. They preferred to be there rather than here. She was delighted to make that as easy for them as she possibly could.

For the rest, Elsa had managed to pepper her official missives with strong hints of the wonderful hunting and fishing to be had in Arendelle's forests in the summer. Some of the local rich and noble had hunting lodges in the mountains and once or two rather notorious names declared their intention to go, that idea soon got caught up in its own momentum and willingly mopped up whatever was left of the more festive crowd.

All that remained was a very small handful of dedicated diplomats and a couple of hard-necked businessmen angling for trade agreements, like the Duke of Wesleton himself. They could almost certainly be dealt with in a single closed door meeting after the celebratory part was over, if she couldn't quietly see to whatever they wanted with a little tête-à-tête during the ceremonial ball. In short she could reasonably expect to have the castle back to normal again in a day or two at the most, which was far better than she dared hope.

She just wasn't entirely sure it would be enough.

Elsa stood up again, pacing the floor. A stray blonde lock feel down her face and she tucked it back under the black bonnet, making a mental note to make her plaited bun even tighter tomorrow. She didn't know what to do anymore and she was missing her father more than ever. Of late she was having trouble eating and sleeping. Even very simple foods were giving her stomach ache and her head had usually started pounding like an internal drum by evening. Rubbing her forehead, she turned away from the fire, glancing upwards automatically.

A face was staring down at her.

She felt her blood run cold, fear spreading through her. It was there in the window. The little triangular one above the curtainpole. Sharp angular eyes, white hair, thick dark eyebrows... pressed so close to the glass the tip of the nose was almost flat.

Elsa screamed.

The strange man snapped upright in alarm. Two guards were already ricocheting though the library door. Green uniforms flapped as they reached for their weapons.

"It's him!" Elsa cried, backing away towards the fireplace. A thin sheet of ice cracked under her feet. Luckily the guards were distracted, their eyes scanning the walls. "Outside the window. The intruder! From before..."

"The window?" One guard was already racing towards it, his fellow on his heel as soon as he understood. Elsa glanced back where the face had been. It was gone.

"Hurry!" she screeched, hugging her middle tightly, "He must have climbed away! See where he went!"

More guards were arriving, but she waved them back out of the room in an instant. "Get outside in the courtyard!" she demanded, advancing towards the door, her face frantic with fear, "Put some men on the roofs. Man the walls! Head him off!"

At the window, the original guards had climbed the seat and were yanking open the catch. "I don't see anyone!" one of them yelled, his hat almost falling off his head as he craned to look outwards.

Elsa's head snapped towards him, her expression grim. "He must be hiding," she decided, waving a hand at the door, "Hurry outside and help the others."

Only one guard left her. The other waved him away with determined expression, gripping his sword tightly in his white gloved hand. "Can't leave you unprotected, your highness," he explained, placing his spare hand reassuringly on her elbow. Elsa jerked her arm away, backing towards the fireplace again.

A Gerda appeared in the doorway, looking terrified, her cap already askew as she bounded over towards them in a panic. Kai was scuttling along not far behind, followed by several of the junior maids. Surrounded by her staff, Elsa finally started to calm down a little. She tried to breathe.

Her head of household snarled as she assessed the situation, her gaze raking over the warm chestnut bookcases and curious items of furniture as if they had done her a personal wrong. "Someone close that window," Gerda snapped, shooing the maids towards it, "There's already frost in here."

Indeed there was, Elsa noticed with a sudden jerk that it was all over the floor. She was shaking too and Gerda was eyeing her with concern.

"It's alright, ma'am," Kai's brisk voice mumbled, coming to stand by her side. His gaze was gentle and reassuring as it lingered on her, but it had a sharp overtone as it lingered on the still watchful guardsman, "They'll find the man, I'm sure." Both the maids nodded in loyal agreement, one balancing precariously over the cushions on the window seat as she tried to pull it shut again. The other smiled up at them from her hands and knees as she tried to pick ice off the floor.

"This... this cannot be happening," Elsa whispered, her voice faint, "Please this can't be..." She collapsed on the edge of the chaise lounge, hunched over at the middle with her arms folded in her lap.

"It's alright, ma'am," Gerda soothed, magicking a blanket from unknown location that she draped carefully over Elsa's shoulders. She had developed a trick of doing things like this without ever touching the royal skin itself, something that reassured Elsa immensely even if it meant acknowledging her housekeeper thought her neurotic enough to be needlessly afraid of physical contact.

"What's going on?"

Elsa froze. Her whole body locked up at t sound of the familiar sleepy girlish voice in the hallway. Her eyes widening, she reeled as if someone had punched her in the stomach. "Get her out of here," Elsa hissed at Kai, as soon as she could speak again, "Take her away somewhere safe. Make sure she is protected at all costs. Don't leave her side. Keep her under guard." At the sight of his wide confused gaze, she slowed, catching her breath and staring at the floor as she choose her words more carefully.

"If this... person is targeting me," she began, her voice a little hoarse. "I don't want to risk any chance of the princess being caught up in the crossfire. She must be kept safe. If anything happened to her, I'd never... Anna is not to leave her room until all this is over and the entire castle has been thoroughly searched, do you understand?" Her head tilted upwards as she fixed him with a determined stare.

He nodded, his expression grim as he marched towards the door. "Of course, ma'am. Right away." Elsa watched him go, the deep pit in her stomach still impossibly hard and painful.

Predictably... it only took for a minute after he left the room for the protests to start. Elsa winced as she heard them. "What?! No way!" the voice yelled indignantly, "Let me see my sister! What's going on? Why won't anybody tell me what's happening? Where's Elsa? Where's...?"

The door flung open. Anna was grappling in Kai's arms. Her hair was a mess, her nightdress rumpled. Evidently she had been very much asleep when the commotion started. One of her bare feet was pressed against Kai's knee, the other was in mid-air and he had both hands on her shoulders, pressing downwards. It looked as if Anna had been trying to literally climb over the stodgy little man to get the door.

"Elsa?" The question was hesitant, afraid. The maids in the room glanced helplessly from one sister to the other and Gerda, her face torn in a worried frown, hurried over to help Kai before he lost his balance.

Elsa swallowed, her mouth oddly dry under her sister's frightened stare. She turned away, her eyes fixed on the floor. "Go to your room, Anna," the Queen demanded, "Now."

The girl's eyes widened, stung. "But..."

" _Now!_ " Elsa snapped, gripping her skirt with her fists.

"Fine..." Something in Anna's expression closed off. She stopped struggling, letting Kai seize her arm and lead her away without a fight. Gerda waited until they had disappeared down the hall to close the door, watching to see if Kai needed help again.

He did not, because Anna did not try to struggle or complain again. As she was lead away, her eyes never waived from the side of her sister's head, the only thing that faced her. Elsa could feel that gaze burning her long after she was gone. She closed her own eyes, waiting for the guards report in silence.

They never found the intruder. Elsa lay awake that night, unable to sleep. Her eyes kept flitting to the curtain-less window, afraid of seeing a face that shouldn't be there. She didn't dare look at the wall. The one she knew was in the direction of the room she had once shared with her baby sister. Every time she did her heart started racing so fast she thought the fear would rip it out of her chest.

Her whole bed was frozen in ice. The floor was encased too.

She couldn't sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

The cold was incredible. It hurt. She could feel it clawing through her insides, seeping through her bones. Her skin was numb, her limbs heavy. Every joint in her body was sore, every muscle ached. Each breath came with a painful struggle to move her stiffening chest. The simple passing of air grated on her swollen throat... and she was so, so cold right down to her core. It was almost all she could think of. She was so cold. It was like there was no warmth left anywhere inside her.

Anna felt like such a fool. Alone in the darkened library, she closed her eyes, collapsing against the very door through which Hans had abandoned her. She had thought he loved her. She had thought he too felt a rush of joy when he first saw her, that he too felt... something... being with someone who understood...

Since he was leaving her to die and all, she supposed he really didn't then.

She wished she hadn't left the ice palace. If she was going to die anyway, she would rather have been with Elsa at the end. Anna had always thought that she was the one who was unhappy, that she was the one trapped alone in this empty castle because of her father and sister's strange rules. It turned out that all this time Elsa had been suffering just as she was, hiding a secret that was bigger than both of them. It turned out that her sister had been miserable too.

Anna did not visit the library a lot. She had snuck in sometimes as a young child, but mostly her father had spent too much of his time here, doing boring kingly things that made her itchy with effort to not disturb him. After he died, this had effectively been Elsa's room. She had come here every day. So every day Anna had avoided the place, preferring the portrait gallery and the gardens were she could run about and be noisy without people getting on her case. She had left Elsa alone, thinking she wanted to be alone. She had never realised... her sister must have been really lonely too. Perhaps Elsa would have liked to see her, even if they didn't talk. Perhaps they could have done... something... even if it was from a safe distance. If she had just tried a little harder... if she had known...

If she had just known...

Anna would have liked to have seen her sister just one last time before she died. She would prefer not to die at all, if she was being honest, but if she was going to she would have liked to have held her and told her it was okay... or something. She just wanted to see her sister really. What they did was irrelevant. She just wanted to not be alone. She just wanted for them _both_ to not be alone. Elsa was going to really be lonely if she died... Anna really didn't want to die.

That was when she heard Olaf rattling the door with the carrot he used as a nose.

It turned out it was a good thing the library had never locked very well to begin with.


	9. Chapter 9

Something was different. Something was definitely different about Arendelle.

Jack let himself be whirled upside down by the wind, his arms swept out from his sides as the cold air streamed across his face. His wooden shepherd's crook in one hand, his knees braced against the invisible current, he spun freely in mid air as he peered across the landscape. Something had changed. He could taste it in the air.

The wind stung his eyes as he strained to see, his body twirling as he toppled down far above the mountainside towards the town. So far he hadn't noticed any obvious signs of change. The trees swayed with the passing air. Animals puffed up their fur, racing for cover. A lone ice salesman sat abreast of a full sled's worth of cargo, his reindeer trudging obediently through the snow... but something was different. Jack knew it.

He pulled his back straight, hurling upwards in defiance of gravity. His staff spun in his hand sending out a sudden gust of snowflakes. Endless forests, vast expanses of grey rock and white snow, trailed across the mountains below, but Jack twisted in mid-air spiralling around his own dancing flakes as he let the wind carry him down towards the town.

Grinning, he tasted the chilling wind as it sent him flying forward. Snowflakes swirled around him in an icy flurry, but he stretched, tucking his chin against his chest and pulling his brown cloak tighter around his torso. Pointing his bare feet behind him, he made his body as straight as possible and dived down out of the sky. He fell like an arrow, hurtling towards the ground at impossible speeds. The earth came closer and closer. Houses and roofs sprang up from seemingly nowhere. Cobblestone streets raced towards him. Then he spread his limbs, catching the up draft in the baggy layers of his clothing. Suddenly his whole body slowed as he rolled gently upright, lazily tumbling along in mid air several feet above the tiled roofs. The snowflakes toppled gently downwards below, lining the dirty slush on the streets with fresh white powder.

When you saw a city from this height it was all smoke. It was everywhere. White wood smoke, grey oil smoke and black coal smoke puffed out of various chimneys nestled in the foot hills by the sea. People were making their way along the streets, winter coats drawn up against the late November chill. A few children were playing in among some of the doors, the breath steaming up around them in great white gasps as they raced around throwing snowballs at each other.

Jack slowly made to rest on a nearby rooftop, one foot on the staggered crenelations, one hand resting on his bent knee as he watched them play. His waist-length brown leather cloak flapped in the breeze; his battered waistcoat hung open over his white shirt; the weathered wood of his old crook rested easily in his loose grip. Short scruffy white hair and untamed dark eyebrows defined his sharp features. His bare toes flexed against the rough brickwork as he lent in further. Sparkling almond-shaped pale eyes took in the playing children and a lop-sided smile drifted over his face, lingering around the colour-less lips and around the square chin.

Something about Arendelle had definitely changed compared to his visit last year. He watched a pair of housewives who were chatting on the pavement. Their shawls were drawn up close to their necks and their faces were red from the cold, but neither of them seemed to mind as they babbled in animated conversation, their baskets of groceries swinging dangerously on their arms with every wool-clad gesture.

He jumped, landing squarely on the frozen cobblestones as the gentle flurry of his own making petered out around him. Ducking, he narrowly avoided a small hard snowball thrown by one of the larger boys. It ricocheted off one of the brightly painted buildings, grazing a pot plant in the process. "Hey!" a little brown pigtailed girl yelled angrily, charging straight through Jack's middle without seeing him, "Don't squash the snow down into ice! That's nasty!" She bobbed up and down, her mittened fists flailing over her many colourful thick skirts.

"You tell him," Frost agreed, tapping the air above his head as he watched her run up the street passed the rows of stone steps, wooden architectural struts and decorated shutters all covered in thick pillows of crystalline white, "No ice balls. Somebody will get hurt that way." Oblivious to his words, several of the girl's young friends were already snatching up great fistfuls from the ground and getting ready to pelt the culprit in indignant retribution. He waved his staff gently at the unwitting children, causing an extra layer of soft fresh snowfall to sneakily build up around them on the pavement, spilling out onto the deep recess of the street itself. Frost crept up on the many-paned sliding windows and coiled around ornate wrought-iron lamp posts and an addition burst of flakes in the air had the youngest and most easily distracted infants squealing in delight.

In defiance of his normal nature though Jack didn't stop to play himself this time. His bare feet hit the cold slushy cobblestone without an ounce of discomfort, his trousers bound tight around his calves to keep them out of his way. Striding fearlessly down the middle of the street he made his way down towards the dock at an easy pace, crook slung over his shoulder, casually throwing out polite greetings to people who would never hear him. Still he regarded them with a fond smile as he noticed the way a white-aproned shopkeeper cheerily pulled his empty crates back into the shop for the night and a father with a thick black moustache carried armfuls of cut logs into the house, proudly shepherding his young son and daughter who were trying to manage a big basket of kindling. A housewife hummed happily as she swept fresh snow off her steps and a grandfather sat by an open window, chewing contentedly on the rind of a pastry as he watched the world pass by.

It was definitely different. People seemed more open and much less focused on their work compared to before. Life had slowed a little and there was an air of enjoyment around. It was like some of these people's worries had magically washed away over the summer. They were happier. It was weird, a very good weird, but weird none the less.

The smell of salt in the air grew gradually stronger and then, all of a sudden, the houses just stopped. They fell away to the wide expanse of the docks. White sea foam smashed against the grey stone defences and ships pulled gently on their mooring with the swell of each wave. Heavily trodden slush roads sliced their way down to the wharf, great heaps of snow and ice piled against each wall structure to allow space for the sea cargo to be shipped and loaded. Ice was a continual danger with cold wet conditions like this, so it didn't come as a surprise to Jack to feel sharp pieces of grit digging into his bare soles for the safety of people who weren't him.

He leaped with the grace on an acrobat, landing on the iron chain-link fencing separating the edge of the road from the drop to the wharf. His feet and hands gripped the freezing metal tightly without any sign of discomfort. Toes curling as he balanced with expert ease, he thrust out his arms, holding his crook like a counterweight and slowly pulled himself to his full height, raising his head and... He stood stock still, his eyes wide, staring out at the castle that stood alone far out in the inlet where the fjord met the sea.

That was definitely different too. Arendelle had always had a beautiful palace, generations of peace having turned the structure into something more like architectural art than a seaside fortress. Now however as his eyes followed the stone jetties out across the water, the whole building glinted in the last of the evening sunlight. Ice covered the outer surfaces, rising up over the roofs in a wall of delicately patterned glittering blue, until it reached the tallest tower where a giant snowflake rose straight through the tall spindle roof.

"Elsa," he whispered in disbelief. It had to be. Nobody on Earth could cause ice to form as precisely as that except the two of them... and he knew he hadn't done it.

"Elsa," he repeated breathlessly, mesmerised the sight, "Elsa, Elsa – yes – _E_ _lsa_!" He whooped loudly, pumping his fists as he kicked off from the ground, letting the air carry him up over the fjord towards the royal residence. His entire face was split into a stupidly wide grin. "Elsa," he breathed, spinning slowly in mid-air as his grip on his staff slacked at his side, "Oh, Elsa. You did it. All by yourself. Oh Elsa. This is fantastic!"

The wind carried him gently towards the looming walls. His feet almost absently bumped into the frozen tiles of the outer roof. Caught a little off-guard by the cold slippery slate in his distraction, he brought his crook down beside him with an unnecessary thump as he fought for his balance. Peering into the courtyard he found the rosemåling-patterned stones completely deserted, save for the waspish housekeeper in her stiff green uniform and tight high-set bun heading into the chapel with a bucket full of dusters.

Jack's fingers itched around the crook. Gripping it tighter, the corner of his mouth twitched and he almost raised the staff up from were it was jammed into the icy tiles. Then he stopped himself, looking away with a sigh. While the woman certainly looked like she could use an errant snowball or an impromptu ice slide to wipe that sullen expression from her face, he did not exactly have time to spare for her at the minute. At any rate past experience had taught him to be a little more careful in this building. He supposed he would just have to let her get on with her cleaning, for much joy as it may bring her... which was none as far he was concerned, in case the mental sarcasm wasn't obvious enough.

Still pouting slightly, he kicked the ground slightly, ducking low over the wide roofs of the outer walls. With careful balance, he scurried across to the keep like a white-crowned squirrel with a walking aid. The wind caught his tiny cloak, swelling in the leather capelet, lifting him with gentle force until he was almost skating across the bumpy tiles for the last part of the journey. It increased in force, allowing him to leap higher as the building mounted upon itself, filling out into the bulk of the main keep. He bounded across the lower outlying roofs with inhuman ease until he reached a familiar large window halfway up the main face. His bare toes ground against the stonework with painful abrasive tension, his left hand clutched at the thin wooden frame and his right jammed the shepherd's crook on the roof above, pushing down against the overhanging tiles, and creating just enough counterbalance to leave him perilously suspended as he strained to steal a glimpse through the small triangular skylight above the main window.

The fire in the library was lit, but to his disappointment despite the early hour there was no sign of the queen. Instead he was surprised to recognise the figure of the young princess sprawled on the rug. That was new too. At least it was since the death of her parents. Usually she would be running around somewhere outside or playing in the portrait gallery. Her long auburn pigtails were swept over her shoulders and a book lay open on her heavy magenta-patterned skirts. She looked like she was reading to a burly looking blonde man in furs who was perched on the very edge of the pink sofa, so obviously uncomfortable in his fancy surroundings that it made Jack itch to mess with him... and...reclining against the side table with an expression of enraptured delight... Was that a snowman... indoors of all places?

Jack didn't have time to think much about it. A cold blast hit his side, knocking him from the roof. Winded, he felt the unnatural foreign chill seize his side. He gasped for breath. His body tumbled uncontrollably though the air, toppling head first down the wall. His slender fingers snatched at nothing, trying to grab the crook falling just beside him. He ran out of time.

Before he could catch himself, the hard cobblestone slammed into his back, his head cracking upon its impact. His body bounced like child's toy, ricochetting several times before it finally came to rest under one of the fountains. Every bone in his body felt bruised and sore. He groaned softly. His skull still rang. Trying to pull himself together, he tried shakily to sit up, but his world went blurry. A painful wave of nausea forced him back down on the ground.

"Who are you?" a voice demanded through the foggy pounding pain, "What do you want here?" He turned his head limply in the direction of the sound, squinting upwards. It was... well, he thought it might be Elsa, but the figure climbing out of one of the high windows looked much too bright to be the girl he remembered peering at through closed dark bedroom panes.

It was like an angel was climbing down out of the sky. She was practically shining in the late evening light. Her blonde hair was iridescent with the dying sun behind it, her body sparkled with some kind of close cut fabric, a glinting glittering mass swelled beneath the tiny delicate feet as if the air itself was conspiring to carry this shimmering goddess towards the unworthy earth.

He focused on the round features of the face, looking for large eyes and a delicate chin. His breath caught painfully in his chest. He wasn't even aware of when he had sat up. All he could do was stare, helplessly entranced as the shining figure slowly made its way towards him. He squinted, his abused vision trying hard to make out more details from a messy sea of blurs. It took several long minutes before he was focused enough to be sure.

It was definitely Elsa, but Elsa as he had never seen Elsa before. Instead of the heavy back mourning grab he remembered she was dressed in a sheer delicate fabric of sparkling blue. Her hair was woven into a single long plait that fell down her back. The fair freckled face was flushed, the expression on it tense and angry, but he found he didn't care, drinking in the sight of her large almond eyes as they slowly became clearer.

Almost automatically, he fumbled for his staff with uncharacteristic slowness. His surprise at the sight slowly marching down from the light overriding even the soreness in his body. "Wow..." he mumbled horsely, leaning forward, his breath still halting, "You look... amazing. I love... well, everything. The dress, the hair. Just wow."

She gasped. Violation and shock evident across her pretty face. One hand snatched at the fabric covering her shoulder pulling it down and across her chest as her eyes narrowed. "I said, what do you want?" she growled, advancing downwards. The platform was actual ice, he realised. Ice that was beautifully and artistically formed into patterns and swirls as it slowly extended itself beneath her feet into a staircase under each move of her sparkling pointed shoes. Freckled and round-featured, there was nothing cute about the expression on her fair visage. She moved with predatory intend, her outrage obvious.

He breathed deeply, staring up at her with wide eyes, still feeling a little dizzy. "Is that... that can't be ice too, right? The dress? I mean, you're not actually wearing..."

" _What do you_ _ **want**_ _?!_ " Giant icicles smashed into the ground around him, making him jump. Broken shards flew across the courtyard and Jack staggered to his feet, pulling his staff close with sudden weariness.

The castle doors flung open. "Elsa?"A gasping, panting pig-tailed princess clung to the ornate handle, hanging off it with exhaustion as if she had just sprinted the entire way from the library upstairs. Her thick skirt billowed slightly with left-over momentum and her body swayed loosely against the ornately inlaid oak. She wiped the sweat from her brow with her free hand as she tottered back onto her feet, looking distractedly out passed the rose marble pillars of the grand porch into the dark spaces around the shadowy walls.

Elsa turned her head slightly. "Anna?" Her shoulders tensed and she broke almost into a run, ice jumping into existence in swirling flashes as she hurried closer to the courtyard, both hand thrust out before her, surging with power. "Go inside," she hissed through gritted teeth, shooting her sister a sidelong glance just a couple of metres from the worn stones, "I'll deal with this."

Anna blinked. Concern was etched all over the freckled features as she hesitantly stumbled forward onto the wide marble entry steps. "Elsa, what's wrong?"

Jack shifted his crook from hand to hand, bracing his shoulders and hips as he got ready for another attack. "You know, you might wanna..."

"Quiet!" A burst of ice hit the fountain, narrowly missing his head as he dived under and passed it. Elsa raised her hand, immediately hurling a second blast at his feet. He fell on his back, kicking upwards into an aborted half-backflip just in time to avoid being caught. Rolling on the ground, he dove into a crouch, sprinting backwards as Elsa sent volley after volley at his zigzagging form.

"What are you..." Anna yelped, her hands up palms outwards in front of her chest, hesitating as she took a step forward, as the sound of heavy running footsteps echoed down the hall behind her. "Elsa?" she began again, moistening her lips, as the burly blonde burst through the doorway, barrelling to halt behind her, his hand protectively on her shoulder, "What are you doing?"

"Apprehending this intruder," her sister snarled, her voice low as she finally made the last of the decent towards the earth with a jump. Jack flinched, bolting behind the cover of the ice-covered colonnade around outer walls. The sparkly blue of Elsa's decorations somehow made the shadows here even blacker and this was exactly what he needed as he crouched low, his capelet slipping over his shoulders as he tried to hide in the bare passageway.

"What intruder?" Anna demanded. Gently tapping the hand the blonde held on her shoulder as she moved out of his reach, she strode towards her sister with sudden determination, "Elsa?"

"What?" the queen snapped, turning her head distractedly. Loose strands of blonde hair tumbled across her snarling features.

"What intruder?" Anna repeated, coming to stand at her sister's side. Her head tilted from side to side, turning as she scoured the courtyard to see what had Elsa so worked up. One cheek rose along with her eyebrows as she gave her verdict, "There isn't anyone here."

Elsa stared at her, suddenly looking a little lost. Jack winced, bracing himself in the shadows of the courtyard wall. "That's what I've been trying to tell you," he called, his deep voice breaking slightly, "She can't..."

"He's right there," the queen interrupted, another bolt of ice leaping from her fingers as she jabbed her hand in the direction of the intruder. It smashed against the stone in the exact place Jack had been mere seconds before. "The same pervert who keeps staring through the windows."

Jack's eyes widened, his back flush against a wooden column. "Whoa... _pervert_?" He suddenly sounded awfully high-pitched. "That's a little harsh," he retorted, his face red as he peered out of his hiding place, "It's not like I watch you undress or anything... Well, there was that one time I nearly... but I swear that was an accident."

"Urgh!" Another blot of ice hit him hard across the face, backhanding him against the floor and swelling up over his shoulders and neck.

"Okay," he grunted, semi-incoherant as the ice pressed into his cheek, "I admit deserved that."

The blonde man shook his head, raising his hands as he joined the red-headed princess. "Please your majesty," he winced, seeing the queen raise her eyebrows at the term, and hurriedly corrected himself, "Elsa I mean... there isn't anyone there." Anna nodded vigorously, anxiously embracing her sister and pulling at her until they were face to face.

"Elsa..." the princess' hands rested on her sister's shoulders, her gentle features as round and freckled as the queen's but twisted with confusion. Under the sympathetic survey of the silent blonde friend, the large blue eyes of the younger woman were locked with her older sibling's, pleading for some understanding. Elsa's gaze flickered back towards the prone form on the distant courtyard floor.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Jack mumbled with a heavy disgruntled snort. He rolled his eyes even as he lay frozen to the ground, "They can't see me. You're the only one who can and even you can't always..." His grip on his staff tightened and Elsa watched wide-eyed as her own ice disobeyed her, splaying outwards and letting the captive man slide gently down to ground.

Gasping in shock, she stumbled backwards, almost pulling out of her sister's hold, but Anna's arms instinctively tightened around her shoulders, becoming almost vice-like. Elsa tried to raise her hands, tried to send more ice around her former captive, but it turned into a very sluggish display that the winter intruder easily avoided as the half-formed mound of ice writhed limply on the floor.

The stranger rolled sharply on the ground, until he was sitting up, straight-backed, watching the sisters' embrace with a wry smile over his raised brown-clad knees. He held his shepherd's crook in a vague horizontally tilt over his resting feet more out of habit than any desire to use his own magic. A half smile twitched over his cheek as he noticed the young queen watching him, but he didn't move instead fixing her with a stare of his own. She swallowed hard. Inching a few steps closer to her younger sister, she pushed her arm protectively through her embrace, grabbing her middle back and pulling her close as she stared at the stranger.

Much too late, several guards arrived on the scene, practically toppling over each other in an effort to be useful as they came in from the gate. "Your majesty, is everything okay?"

"It's fine," the large blonde man stepped forward, standing in front of the sisters and waving in large dramatic gestures as he tried to give the women give some privacy, "Elsa was just surprised by... something, but it turns out there was nothing to worry about."

Elsa growled, suddenly yanking herself free of her sibling as she rounded on the man. "I wasn't 'just surprised'," she hissed. He backed away in alarm, his eyes wide and his shoulders hunched at her sudden ire. The guards stared at them in alarm, reaching for their concealed weapons.

"Elsa," Anna grabbed her sister's wrist, pulling her backwards as the blonde man tottered away from them in alarm.

The queen's free fist shook in mid air. She barely even glanced at the younger girl. "There's..."

"I know," her sister hissed urgently. She reached around her sister's shaking frame, rising on tiptoes to whisper in her ear. "But what are you going to tell them?" she indicated the guards with a jerk of her head, "Go hunt down an invisible man?" The colour drained out of Elsa's face. She stiffened, falling silent. Jack snorted quietly, standing up.

The most senior guard present – a captain – stepped forward, seeming to sense he and his men were being spoken about. "Your majesty?" He semi-saluted, clearly waiting for orders.

Pushing her younger sister gently aside, the queen paused, her breathing hard and uncomfortable as her gaze went from her sibling to the white-haired intruder trying to sneak away unnoticed, his back turned on the entire party. "Can you see anyone... there?"

She whipped around, sending a sudden burst of ice flying across the courtyard. The blonde man successfully dived out of the way, but before Jack could dodge, it had already seized his feet, solidifying and fixing them to the floor. He staggered, swaying with the sudden break in his momentum, but then he twisted around, raising an eyebrow and spreading his arms in mock-defeat.

"Errr..." the guard paused, following the queen's motion with knitted brows, "No... ma'am?" Jack's expression visibly darkened, as he sighed and turned away. The bottom of the crook hit the ground with an angry thump and he slouched forward, leaning on it as he appeared to await the queen's neck move.

Elsa on the other hand looked almost ill. She pulled her arms close to her chest in a nervous manner that was more typical of her before her coronation than the person she had become. "I see," she whispered quietly. Drawing herself up with a stiff smile, she faced the guards with what was left of her dignity, "Kristoff's right. It was nothing. Probably just a... bat or a bird or something. I must have been working too hard. I'm tired, seeing things..."

The guard nodded sympathetically. "Right you are, ma'am," the captain offered, signalling for his men to disperse behind him, "I hope you feel better soon."

"Me too," she sighed, her eyes fixed on Jack's back. His grip on his crook noticeably tightened.

Just at that moment the castle door seemed to explode outwards, banging loudly against the wall as the great heavy weights slammed back on their full axis. As the noise resounded through the air, as people turned in shock, a brightly smiling snowman and his devotedly drifting snow cloud rushed out into the courtyard.

"Hello, I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!" the little pointed body proclaimed loudly, practically jumping with excitement. Looking around at a sea of only familiar faces, he shrugged and carried on unperturbed, "Does anybody want a hug? No? Ooh! What's all the ice for? Are we making sculptures? I want to make a reindeer! Oh and a snowman. A little mini-me. Wouldn't that be sweet?" He bounced up and down excitedly, coming to a halt as as he caught sight of the expression on Elsa's face. "What's wrong?"

She was staring at the shattered ice on the ground, which had held the mysterious intruder – until she turned her back for a second in surprise at the snowman's entrance. Now the stranger was gone. Her eyes darted from the ice to the open gates and her expression visibly darkened even further. "Nothing," she muttered, approaching the ice and kicking it with one of her shoes, "I'm fine."

Hiding in mid-air behind one of the towers, Jack breathed a slow sigh of relief, rubbing his forehead. That had been almost too close for comfort.


	10. Chapter 10

And now he was bored. Jack sent a flurry of snowflakes up into the air above him, watching as they spiralled slowly back down, landing all over his prone body. He raised a bare, skinny foot in the air, snatching at another flake with his long toes, observing the way the digits wiggled as they tried to close around the tiny ice crystals. The white of his skin glowed softly against the smoke-laden clouds in the pale winter sky above. For just a moment he was completely still. The last of the snow settled all around him.

He was pathetic, he decided, letting the whole limb smack back down again next to its fellow. The thin powder particles bounced lightly under the blow, settling again as he rolled his head further back over his arm. Some of the white substance was crushed by his movement, but none of it melted. His body had not produced enough natural heat for that since the day he had emerged from that frozen lake long ago, half drowned and iced over in its dark waters.

A loud sigh escaped him, his face twisting with the force of it. He stretched his shoulders against the hard rooftop, pumping the hand that supported his head as he lay spread-eagled on the dark expanse of brown-black rectangles that swept down to the tops of the grand wooden fascias. The sides of the grand seafront house were richly decorated, the rich trader who owned it clearly angling for prestige among the other citizens of Arendelle, but up here, out of the sight of anyone but the gulls and Jack, things were more spartan. Only the chimney and the crown of the roof showed any signs of moulding or whittle-work and that only where it might be visible from the street below. The tiles themselves were fairly simple plain slate in the same endless sweeping rows. At this time of the year the dilapidated nest at the base of the big square chimney was empty and weather-beaten, it occupants long since flown. There weren't even any insects thanks to the cold. It was just Jack and the smoke and the gently drifting clouds above and the sheer peacefulness was maddening.

His free hand flexed against the grain of the shepherd's crook that lay beside him. The bare slate was increasingly rough and uncomfortable against his back and the sharp incline left him pretty exposed to the salty sea air. His shoulders were getting sore and his throat was drying out. Chimneys around him puffed gentle streams of warm, but acrid smoke that made him feel worse not better and the sounds of the distant population mixed in with shrill cries of sea birds and the lapping of the nearby waves only reminded him on what he was currently missing out on.

Ordinarily he did not _do_ bored. He could almost always find someone or something to entertain himself with. Winter was a time full of snowball fights and ice slides and frosted patterns over houses. His elevated position gave him some view of the embankment below and the sight of all those dowdy mundane people just getting on with business made him twitchy. He really wanted to liven things up. There were ice patches begging to be created, ready to literally throw preoccupied worry-warts out of their own thoughts as as they went toppling over themselves. There were crates in need of freezing to the ground, to make the swaggering muscle-bound dock men huff and curse in entertaining ways as they discovered that something out there was still stronger than them. He was sure at the very least he could find some bad tempered self-important curmudgeon with a lead pipe or two to burst. That always made someone somewhere smile as they remembered the unnecessary mean comments the old grump had last hissed at them in passing.

However none of this was an option right now. At least... not here. If he caused too much trouble, it wouldn't be him getting the blame. For just a little while longer, he needed to stay on his best behaviour or everything he was trying to accomplish would come undone… and she would hate him. He sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the rooftop and gradually blowing a large snowflake out through his nose. The tiles were really starting to cut into him too.

Still... if she wasn't back within the next fifteen minutes, he was officially outta here. He had already checked the entire castle, looking for her, only to find himself disappointed at the sight through every window. Nothing but servants and guards everywhere and even they didn't look especially busy with anything but their regular duties. There was no sign of the royal family indoors or out – and yet there were also no indication of the winding down of activity that meant the household was being left to vegetate while their mistresses were on a long journey somewhere.

They couldn't have gone far. He could wait another ten minutes, really he could. His nose twitched. His fingers tapped the gnarled wooden cane awkwardly. Make that five minutes then. He groaned. Make that five seconds.

No. Sorry. He couldn't take it any more. This was not him. He was going stir-crazy and he was done with it. He was off. Fini. Finito. Færdig. Avsluttet. Bye-Bye.

His knees pushed his feet down hard against the tiles, his bare arches responded in kind thrusting back up from his toes. Rolling in mid air, he sprang and righted himself with a long arch of his grateful back. His staff whirled over his head, propelled in both hands... and then he caught sight of the silent castle just a little way up the jetty, nestled among the delta and the silent mountains.

Silver-white mist plumbed up from the sea, swirling around the tall icy towers with the steady steam of ocean air. It glinted softly in the distance, a swirling jewel of blue and grey and white, quietly inviting him back. An image of Elsa's face flashed across his mind. It was just a little longer.

An involuntary groan escaped his lips and his legs crossed underneath him. He fell back down on his rear with a thump, jamming the crook between the tiles at his feet as he slumped forward, letting his upper body hang dejectedly off his arms like so much dead weight. Okay, just five more minutes. He just... really wanted to see how this turned out.

It took another half-an-hour before the sound of laughing voices roused him out of a near-stupor. He started, his staff smacking him about the head as it fell and clattered against the roof tiles. Scrambling to his feet, he gathered up the wayward crook even as he intently scoured his surroundings for the source for the noise. Most things hadn't changed much, except… just circling the wooden pagoda in the village square below, came a large dark blue sleigh decorated in a stylised winter design and pulled by a single reindeer. A half-dozen or so of the local people had noticed before he did and were already waving and greeting the passengers. Jack was actually surprised their bubbly noise hadn't woken him earlier.

The sleigh pulled away in the direction of the castle, scattering people out of the gangly reindeer's path as it gently shouldered its way though them, the heavy load carried forward easily by the transferred momentum. There was barely any sign of antlers on the animal's head any more, just furry bumps where next spring's regrowth was starting. The deer didn't seem to care though if it looked ridiculous, tossing its intelligent cheerful face from side to side and throwing its hoofs up high as it happily cantered along, evidentially pleased with the attention it was receiving.

Behind the animal on the driver's seat of the sleigh, was the tall blonde man, Kristoff, whom he seen with Arendelle's princess before, enthroned with knees spread wide and his elbows akimbo. The deer's leather reigns were draped over loosely over the Sámi's grey fur mittens as he glanced over his shoulder. His broad featured face and long large nose were still red from a brisk ride in the cold, despite the brim of the warm bobble hat being low over his ears and the thick fur of his burgundy-trimmed tunic. His gentle, round eyes were visibly tired and baggy from a long day and yet in spite of this the small high-set cheeks and the large square chin were broken by a massive grin as he regarded his companions.

Flush with excitement, Jack let the wind carry him gently behind some large stacked crates near the dock, close enough to see without being seen. Kristoff's gaze seemed particularly drawn to a snow-white stallion not far away, a sturdy powerful beast decked out in dark gold-trimmed riding tack with its mane cut short and dyed in a block pattern at the tips in the traditional style of Arendelle. The Sámi man seemed particularly keen on watching the rider, the young red-headed princess who was speaking animatedly with both hands waving through the air and none guiding her steed. Despite Kristoff's waning smile, the horse didn't seem affected by the inattentive handling. It strode gracefully alongside the sled with no sign of straying or panic, apparently used to interpreting the wishes of an easily distracted passenger. Thick blue woollen skirts billowed over the hard leather saddle and heavy black boots poked out of the stirrups on both sides of the muscular flank, as the cloak of the young princess dangled dangerously off her shoulder with her expansive gesticulation, threatening to rip off and pull her under her horse at any moment.

"Okay," someone giggled in defeat from between the large barrels transported on Kristoff's sleigh, "Okay, I admit I had fun today." Jack's eyes widened in excitement at the voice, but before he could find the source he was distracted by Anna's reply.

"I told you you would," the princess declared, leaning towards the back of the sled with a giant grin, "This was just what you needed." One hand finally returned to the slack strip of leather draped on her horse's neck as she waved at several passing merchants. "No responsibilities. No worries," she shrugged her clock back into a safer position, "No invisible phantoms with ice powers."

Jack froze. He had been clambering around the side of the embankment towards the jetty, but he remained hanging off the stone wall like a spider suddenly caught in the light. Anna's words had failed to register properly into their full meaning at first. It took several moments in which his mind replayed the sounds he'd barely heard until he was sure of what had been said, but then those last five words kept ringing in his mind and left him feeling laden and heavy.

A small part of him had started to panic. He swung himself up and under the dangling chain fence, rolling into a crouch behind the slowly moving sleigh. Keeping himself hidden behind a large barrel, he leapt onto the back of one of the long runners, moulding himself. The deer gave a start at the slight change in the sled's weight, but thankfully Kristoff was still paying more attention to Anna than his own steed. Jack peered hopefully around the wooden frame of the barrel.

It had taken less than a moment, but it seemed like an eternity until he finally he spotted Elsa among several large wooden barrels of fish, packed down firmly in layers of crushed ice. She was squatting on a blanket on the floor, her legs curled under her with her slit skirt and cloak laid out over her feet in a very ladylike fashion. His hungry eyes latched onto the sight of her even as he fought an odd churning sensation in his gut, willing her to refute her sister's words, but the queen merely huffed gently, her smile and laughter draining from her delicate features as she deliberately glanced away from her companions and back towards the village. Her face tight, she got on her knees and leaned over the dark blue side of sled, a flick of her sparkling white-clad wrist sending a swirling nest of little miniature ice figures dancing through the air towards a group of increasingly distant local children.

Her cape caught the tiny up draft from the sleigh's gentle motion and rustled slightly against her back. It made an oddly tinkling sound that vaguely mimicked that of bells if you listened carefully enough. The blue-white and whiter still of the ice that formed her dress swept down her body like a frozen river, caressing every curve like the tightest glove. Her blonde braid bounced gently against her subtly rounded chin, but her expression did not lighten as she remained on her knees, staring back towards the diminishing houses of her kingdom.

"I saw him, Anna," she insisted wearily, as the enthralled infants copied the dancing figures and tried to catch them, "I've been seeing him for ages. It's not just a trick of my mind." It wasn't what Jack had hoped she'd say, but it didn't seem to be what he had feared either. He gripped the outter grip of the sleigh so tightly his already white knuckles lost any remote trace of colour. His head bowed and he listened intently with eyes pressed shut and his breath caught.

"Hey," Anna protested, shrugging her shoulders, as she regarded her sister with a conciliatory frown, "If you say you saw him, you saw him. I'm not judging. I'm just glad your not lurking around the castle, jumping at shadows. He's like the boogeyman. He's taken over your life." Elsa looked relieved, but Jack let out a noiseless gasp as his mouth was suddenly too dry for sound. He felt only an oddly painful numbness radiating out of his chest and gut.

Settling herself back among the barrels, Elsa gave her sister a half-smile. "I guess I have been a little paranoid." Jack felt stung. He barely kept his balance with the need to reel backwards.

"A little?" Anna laughed, shacking her head, "Somebody sneezes too loud you jump out of your skin!" Jack flinched, feeling ill. His eyes burning hot against his naturally cool face, he stared at his feet, a crushing invisible weight suddenly pressing on his back as he struggled for breath. His hands were trembling and he had to made an unusual effort to keep his balance.

"I guess its just..." Elsa paused, rubbing her neck, "You have no idea what its like. I'll just be getting on with my day and then out of the blue there's this face there, staring in at me. You never hear him or expect him. You just think you're alone and then... He's just there. It's unnerving." She paused, running a hand over her braid in thought. "I don't know what he wants. He just stares. I don't feel safe any more," she shivered, looking at her feet as she continued in a small voice, "For all I know he could be anywhere... And I can't even alert the guards and have them more vigilant, because they can't see him, so they won't spot him if he does come back... "

Jack sank to his knees, turning on the runner so that his back was flush against the sled. The sky was an endless blue above. His eyes were wide, staring into it. His jaw was slack. The crook trembled in his fingers. This couldn't be...

"He does sound really creepy," a thoughtful voice interrupted.

Elsa started, looking wearily over her shoulder with her eyes narrowed. "Thank you, Kristoff," she began, her voice wavering slightly.

"What!?" the blonde turned his head, his eyes wide as the reindeer easy manoeuvred the heavy sled onto the jetty with almost no guidance from the reigns. Anna brought her horse into step only a fraction behind them, waving at the townsfolk they left behind. "I mean it," Kristoff was saying, gesturing his elbow as he held onto the reigns. "He does sound creepy! Invisible or not, real or not, what kind of a person just stares at you through a window? That's pretty much just criminals and perverts. Normal people knock on doors or write a note or say 'hi', but to just climb up to a girl's window and just watch her... Definitely creepy."

Slumping back against the barrels with a loud sigh, Elsa drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them gently, as crystalline fabric flapped loosely about her shins. "He _is_ real," she repeated, referencing Kristoff earlier comment.

"Then he's real and creepy," the Sámi man shrugged, adjusting the reigns in his hands.

"And has no regard for privacy," a small voice interrupted, as a large blob of white bounced into view from between the barrels, "Or what people other than him might want. Elsa doesn't want to be stared at. He should leave her alone... or at least tell her what he wants... and then leave her alone."

"You said it, Olaf," Kristoff agreed with a nod, now back in a more traditional driving position.

"Maybe he just can't talk?" Anna offered thoughtfully, rubbing her horse's neck as she gazed aimlessly across the fjord, "Or… or... do normal stuff...? Like knock politely and ask if Elsa wants to speak to him."

Elsa shook her head without looking up. "No, he can talk. He did last time he was here."

"When I was there?" Anna's eyes widened. Her horse started as she inadvertently yanked on its reigns. Then recovering, it gave a snort as it realised she didn't actually want anything.

"Yes." Elsa nodded, barely looking up.

"When _I_ was there?" the snowman squeaked. His body oscillating forward as he stared up at his creator.

"Yes, Olaf," the queen sighed, straightening out her cape.

"And I didn't hear him?" the princess added, tensing in her saddle. The horse shifted in uncomfortable anticipation. Kristoff sent it a sympathetic glance.

Elsa nodded again. "That's right." This time she did raise her head to acknowledge Anna, regarding her with a careful expression.

The younger frecklier face drew itself up in disgust. "Eww... That's really..."

"Creepy?" Kristoff suggested with a quirk of his eyebrow as he glanced around at her, "I think we've covered that."

"Well, don't worry, Elsa," the snowman declared, bounding into place just in front of her, "I'll protect you. You just tell me where he is and I'll one... and I'll... two and then... three..." He bounced around the sled in apparent combat with an invisible opponent and then promptly lost his balance, topping head first into a barrel of fish.

Instantly Elsa crawled forward to gently lift him back onto his feet. A carrot end was poking out from behind his twiggy hair and there was nothing orange visible between his eyes and mouth, but he seemed unfazed and oblivious as always. "Thanks, Olaf," she sitting back down with a half-smile on her face, "I feel much better with you around."

"Ah, don't mention it," he beamed, pulling his nose through his head back into the correct position, "It's what I'm made for. That and hugs. Do you want a hug too?" He opened his little wooden arms hopefully.

"Maybe later," she patted him gently on the head, still smiling, "But can we stop talking about this? It's really putting a downer on a great day..."

"Sure. What do you want to talk about? Little fishes?" he hopped off her lap with a sudden burst of enthusiasm, pulling a small bucket with live and very out-of-season baby pollack fish out from a dark secret corner of the sled. "Oh, I'm so excited about my little guppies. I'm going to put them in a big bowl and watch them grow... Oh, and maybe we should put them in the pond and..." He gushed happily.

"They're sea fish, Olaf," Kristoff sighed, waving the guards as they approached the gates, "They need salt water. The pond only has fresh. For the ducks and pond fish." As the snowman paused in disappointment at the Sámi man's words, Elsa smiled fondly, steadying the bucket in Olaf's hands as the water threatened to spill.

Olaf frowned. "Maybe we can build a new pond? One with salt? Oh and...oh... oh... OH!" At the rear of the sled Jack started upright in alarm, suddenly panicking as he realised something.

"Oh!" Anna pulled her horse up short, slowing it as she started wide eyed at what was waiting for them in the courtyard.

"Oh-oh..." Kristoff tensed involuntarily. Jack closed his eyes in defeat, huddling up into a small ball as he waited for the inevitable.

Someone had been decorating. A disk of crystal blue-white ice shimmered in the glow from the castle windows. It spanned the entire section between the two fountains, laying out an enormous icy foundation over the well-worn flagstones. It wasn't just a disk though. Spiralling inwards towards its centre was a massive storm of leaves and branches. Icy crocuses showed their blossoming little flashes here and there among the foliage. Right in the centre a massive beast appeared to have forced its body through the maelstrom. Gargantuan front hooves were caught mid-swing in the air, a great shaggy mane tumbling wildly down it's might neck and there among its mighty set of antlers a small figure of a snowman seemed to be dancing. The oblong snowballs that defined its odd seeming arrested in the middle of a playful bounce. The twiggy arms spread out wide for a potential hug. The face caught in a familiar smile.

The reindeer paused considering the artwork critically and sneakily mimicking its attitude. Olaf was already leaping out of the sled. "Elsa, is that for me?" he gasped, running around in large circles, his coal based eyes bulging. "You remembered! It's just like I wanted! That's me and that's Sven... well, his nose is a bit off, but I think it's still just per..." He spun on his giant round feet, arms spread wide and faces hining with glee.

"Olaf," Kristoff began uncertainly, "I..."

"Come away from there!" Elsa's face had grown hard. She got to her feet. Each step resounded from the wood as she climbed stiffly out of the sled and made her way to where the snowman was standing. Her fingers twitched and her face was flushed.

Olaf gave a surprised start. "But..."

"Just come away from there," Elsa muttered, her features pinched as she reached for one of the snowman's twiggy hands, "Now."

"But..." He waved at the beautiful reindeer sculpture, apparently lost.

"Now, Olaf," she snapped, pulling him by the arm. All that happened was that the branch-based limb came loose in her hand... It waved at her nonplussed face as Olaf stared at her in wide-eyed bewilderment.

"I'm guessing that's not hers?" Kristoff sighed, indicating the ice statue as Anna's horse drew level with his seat.

"No," she shook her head, her expression blank as she pulled on the reigns, patting her horse's neck, "I don't think so either."

"It's not...?" Olaf's head drooped in obvious disappointment as he turned towards Elsa, apparently still hopeful she might contradict them.

She didn't notice. Her fists shook. Her mouth had pressed down into a thin line. Olaf's arm slipped from her clenched grasp. It lay twitching at her feet, like a strange three-pronged caterpillar, but she stepped over it oblivious.

"I can't believe this," she hissed, striding towards the offending statues with an expression that was as much exasperation as it was rage and fear. "I can't even get away for one day! It's just everywhere. Everywhere!" She stopped, her breathing ragged. Suddenly she started screaming incoherently, bringing the gate guards hurrying back and a couple of nervous maids peering out from the castle doors. They stared openly between at the royal party at an apparent loss to understand what was going on. Strange ice figures appearing out of nowhere was hardly news to them and they hardly likely to assume that the queen would be upset by something they also assumed she created.

"Elsa!" Anna leaped out of the saddle, her foot catching in the stirrup in her haste. Hopping madly on one leg, she waved her hands frantically as she tried to free herself from the surprisingly patient horse, "Elsa, wait. Maybe there's a reasonable explanation? Maybe someone _else_ made it for you? Like a.. like a royal tribute or a diplomatic... thingie? Maybe because you do snow and ice and all... they thought an ice sculpture seemed...?" A couple of the guards were staring at the sculpture with new eyes. One even drew his sword, looking around wildly.

"And they just happen to know exactly what Olaf looks like?" Elsa snapped, rounding on her sister with a distracted snarl. "Not many people outside of Arendelle have even seen him. How did the artist? All the local people would leave flowers or pastries or something and nobody else..." Apparently realising who she was yelling at, the queen drew away, running both her hands distractedly over her braid as she strode through the two nervous maids towards the safety of the castle, "I just can't believe this. I just can't..."

"Elsa, Elsa please! Elsa wait!" Finally tugging herself loose Anna chased after her sister, taking the marble entrance in a single leap.

Kristoff pulled his cap over his head, sighing as he leant back against the sled, "This is _not_ going to end well..." he declared with a half-hearted wave towards the reindeer.

"I'm not quite sure the creepy artist guy got the curve of my nose right either actually," Olaff added, turning to the reindeer and the horse with a thoughtful expression as he careful reattached his arm, "Hey Kjekk, Sven, is my nose that bumpy?" Unnoticed behind the sled, Jack had drawn his legs up close to his chest, his head was bowed as the tears ran freely down his cheeks.


	11. Chapter 11

Hesitantly, Jack crouched on the one of the castle's lower walls, nervously tossing his shepherd's crook from one hand to the other. He gasped short shallow breaths: one after another. His palms felt even colder than usual. Ice kept forming and reforming over his fingertips, the thin sheen cracking and breaking off with every movement. His capelet hung drab over his shoulders and he seemed as small as he could possibly get without shrinking, like a small blob in between the towering crenelations.

The sun almost set over the mountains of Arendelle. Only a few rays remained drifting slowly over the water giving it a soft purple shimmer. The castle itself was lit almost entirely by its own light. Bright diamonds of sunny yellow poured out of every window as the night sky glittered and sparkled with a host of stars above. In the mix of shadowy stone and golden light the silent towers looked different, a little more solemn and peaceful than during the day as their silent outlines faded into the darkness around them. Arendelle village was a mess of flickers and shiny dots, no more than that. The mountains had shrunk back to nothing more than a dark blanket, snuggling up to the sky. Only the water of the fjord around them still danced with life, invisible to the naked eye but a cacophony of gentle tinkles on the ear. Jack Frost sat half hidden under his short cloak, because every time he moved his pale skin was almost iridescent in the encroaching dark and, for the first time in many many decades, he did not want anyone to see him.

He had already left twice. In his mind he had left a thousand times more. It had taken days to get him back here; days to work up enough courage... and now it was failing him again. His fingers shook and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He wasn't sure he could face this, but he was certain he couldn't face leaving again. Just being near her, even without speaking, he felt better. When he tried to return to the isolated existence he knew before, it was unbearable. The loneliness was maddening, worse than it ever been, because now he knew this small relief and it made living without it an impossibility. If he didn't go up there and do something soon however... he would probably lose that precious solace forever.

Every time he closed his eyes however Elsa's outraged face flashed across his mind. He had honestly thought she would like his gift, the ice sculture he had built in her courtyard. It had taken so much time, so much effort, but it had just been one more reminder of an invisible phantom that terrified her; a not-at-all subtle declarion that even when she wasn't thinking about him, he was still there ready to invade every second of her life.

How had he become something like that to her? He wasn't... He had never meant for things to come to this. She wasn't supposed to be afraid of him. He would never want to hurt or scare her. It was supposed to be sweet, a romantic gesture, a way to break the ice between them... Get them to talk. Instead her reaction had been...

If he was honest, he didn't understand it. Girls liked this sort of stuff, didn't they? Romance, surprise presents, secret admirers... He didn't know what he had done wrong, but he knew he had to make it right. He had to apologise; do something to make things right between them... He had to.

His lips dry, his body trembling, he leapt across the low roofs to her window. The wind curled obediently around him like a cold blanket, supporting him in every movement over the ice covered tiling. He swung the crook downwards, hopping down onto the brightly lit sill beside it in low crouch. So far he hadn't been attacked, so she couldn't have noticed him yet. The reason why became obvious as soon as he looked into her bedroom. She wasn't inside.

Still she couldn't be far or he would probably have been ambushed from a different part of the castle. Besides it was dark outside, she had to come back to her room soon enough. At least he would have a safe place to wait until she did come back.

Raising his staff, he tapped the edge off her window lightly with the curve of his crook. Ice built up slowly in the recess of the latch and with a twist of his crook, it suddenly forced open the lock. Hurrying to catch the swinging frame, he half-fell onto Elsa's window seat. His bound up legs ended up underneath him, his shirt almost threatening to tear as his arms went everywhere.

Wetting his lips, he ran a hand through his hair and sat up. "Erm... Your … your majesty?" he croaked, sliding his bare feet onto her warm floorboards and taking a few hesitant steps forwards. He took a deep breath, his fists clenching around his crook as he forced himself to raise his voice."Your majesty..." he called again, his tone firmer this time, though he still wasn't quite sure what he'd do if he actually got an answer, "Your majest..urgh... Queen... my queen. Queen Elsa! Elsa! El...sah..." A sudden loud wooden rattling noise beside him shocked hum out of his thoughts. His voice trailed off and his eyes went wide, as a pathetic embarrassed grin spread over his features, "Oh... oops..."

She stared at him, revealed treacherously late by the dim glow of the gas lamps behind her. A part of the panelling in the wall had been pushed in on itself exposing a here-to-fore secret door and beyond that a small chamber with large armoires and tall boys on the far wall: her dressing room. ( ** _1_** ) The private antechamber that served refined ladies both as a gaderobe and in some cases as a wash room. Steam billowed up behind her along with the scent of dried rose petals and preserved lavender. Her bare, wet limbs poked out of an oversized peshtemal towel, water dripping down her pinkened skin in riverlets as the damp floral fabric clung tightly to her exposed frame. Long heavy waterlogged tresses fell down over her naked shoulders, her expressionless face flushed with the heat of a recent bath.

Bath. Oh no. He had caught her bathing...

He threw his hands up defensively, backing away towards the window, watching in horror as her eyes started to narrow. "Look," he tried, shaking his outstretched hand in front of him, lowering the crook in the other, "It's not what you think, okay? I'm not trying to..." He ducked, rolling over the ground and landing on all fours. A burst of ice shot though the space his head had been in, smashing into a thousand glittering shards of white against the window pane. Elsa hissed indignately at the sight of her failed volley, tightening her grip on her towel as she braced herself for another throw. "Listen," Jack yelled more loudly, scrambling upright, his arms still held out, "I just wanted to..." He thrust the crook in front of his face, using it deflect another ice blast before it could hit him.

"I came here to apologise!" he screamed, his eyes closed, his arms still held out in front of him. The crook was shaking in his hand, but nothing happened. Slowly he opened his eyes, letting out the breath he barely knew he was holding. She had paused, her lips pierced tightly. One hand was securing her towel, the other thrust out in front of her. Her hair was still wet, but the steam behind her was gradually dissipating with exposure to the new chill in her bedroom. Puddles were forming next to her bare toes as she pawed uncomfortably at the ground with her feet. Ice swirled between her splayed fingers, but it didn't as yet move.

The shepherd's crook lowered in front of him as if it had a mind of its own. He inched backwards towards the over-arching window frame, only drawing himself upright against when he felt it hit his back. His lips were much too dry and his eyes wouldn't leave the furious expression on her face. "I know I made you uncomfortable," he stammered, his shoulders shaking. "I didn't mean too," he paused, wetting his lips, readjusting his grip on the crook, "I just wanted... I didn't know how to talk to you." He paused talking a deep breath, running a hand over the back of his neck as he glanced away out of the window. "I mean you're so pretty and you have powers and you... you can see me... and I think I love you and..."

"So what?" she whispered quietly.

He started, his face snapping back to hers. His eyes were wide. His eyebrows knitted. "So..." he repeated faintly, his voice raising in pitch, "So what?"

"Yes, so what," she spat as her face hardened, "Does that make everything okay? Is it now alright that you were invading my private moments, because you _love_ me? You love me so never mind that you break into my room or leave giant gifts in my courtyard for the world to see?" Her fist shook and she glared at him, making him shrink backwards. "You embarrass me," she hissed, "You frighten me. You make me look crazy in front of people whose respect I need. And it's all okay because you were in love?" The question came out in a strangled choke, her face flushed with rage. He swallowed. His eyes were wide. His arm lowered, defenseless.

"Well, I am not in love with you," she declared, glaring at him as her eyes started to well up, "Do you have any idea how horrible it feels to know that somebody could be watching you at any time? To never be sure if you're alone or not?" Tears were flowing freely down her face. She gripped her stomach, shaking, "How my skin used to crawl or how my stomach churned thinking you might be looking at me and I wouldn't know? How I've had to dart around corners and check my room four times every half hour to make sure it's safe? Do you have any idea how scared I was?" The flush of warmth from the bath was leaving her as the tears fell, mixing with the residual water all over her skin. Her toes pressed into the bare floorboards and she seemed to shrink back into the small chestnut paneled alcove in her wall, just another glittering item on the racks of fancy gowns and petticoats strung up behind her. Ice crystals formed on the expensive Turkish fabric around her fingers, obscuring its blue floral pattern in frosted flakes.

He bit his lip, stepping forward into the dim light flickering down onto her small round purple rug. "But I..."

"You what?" she demanded, shaking, staring into his pale face outlined in the low fire from the hearth, "Just because you have feelings for someone doesn't mean you get exclusive rights to every second they are alive. It doesn't even mean they have to return your feelings – especially when you've done nothing but behave in some twisted disturbing way the whole time. Tonnes of stalkers think they love their victims, but that's not love. You don't do this to someone you love."

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, raising his hands defensively. The leather capelet fell back over his shoulders, showing the grubby ends of his linen shirt. "I think you're misunderstanding me... I'm not a stalker, when I said I love you I just meant I..." He trailed off, suddenly unsure of what to say next.

"Well? Do you even know what you meant?" she demanded, pulling the towel closer around herself, "You think have feelings for me? You like me?" She waited for him to speak, but he didn't. His paralysed silence seemed to act as confirmation for her. "How can you say that?" she whispered, her shoulders shaking, "How _dare_ you say that? You don't even know me. You've never had a proper conversation with me. Everything you know about me you've got from following me and... sitting outside windows and _spying_ on me..."

His eyes widened and he pushed away from the windowsill the crook vibrating in his hands. "Spying is a bit harsh, don't you think?"

"No, I don't think," she shot back, her lips drawn into a thin line, "I think it's totally accurate actually. You spy on me. You stalk me. Heck, even this conversation is happening here, outside my bath, when I'm clad in nothing but a towel... because you did not have the simple decency to try to arrange a meeting at a time that would suit me." She clenched her hand into a fist, her eyes narrowing she drew her head back, letting her wet hair slap into her shoulders. "I hold audiences for the people every week. You could have spoken to me there. Or at any number of public engagements. Or at any time when I'm in the castle grounds. Or you could have left a note or some other kind of message. Or just done something, anything, that isn't as creepy and invasive as barging into my _bedroom_ _during_ _my bath_!" She waited, taking a deep breath, for him to start speaking.

"Elsa, I..." He stopped. His fingers shook, he ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes. Trembling, he pulled his crook closer to his body.

"You what?" she inquired slowly, taking a few steps away from him.

He stood still, his head bowed, words sliding slowly over his leaden tongue, "I'm sorry."

Elsa took several barefooted steps back into the dressing room. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest. "Understand something here," she mumbled, her head bowed, as an angry expression slowly stole over her face, "I don't need you to be sorry. You shouldn't have to be sorry, because you should never have been enough of a feature in my life to do anything you would need to be sorry for." She looked up fixing him with a hard stare, her voice slowly gaining volume, "The only thing I need from you is to _leave me alone."_

His face fell. The wind was knocked out of him. "Elsa..." he breathed.

She closed her eyes, turning her face away so that she was looking passed her shoulder at the door frame. "Please, just go away."

"I..." he hesitated, glancing at the floor, "Okay..."

She looked up. "Okay...?"

He bit his lip, his fists tightened around the crook. "You're right," he whispered, drawing the staff closer to himself, "I scared you. I never should have... I didn't even think about... I'm sorry, Elsa. It's been so long since anybody could see me, I didn't think about what it must be like to have someone staring in at you all the time. I didn't think about how weird it would be for you if I just came into your room without asking... or that you might need your... privacy... I shouldn't even be here. I should go." He turned away, pulling himself back up onto the window seat. Pushing the glass open with his crook, he placed one hand firmly around the metal frame and started to pull himself up. For the first time the woman relaxed her shoulders. She took a step forwards, shaking her ridiculously long thick wet hair off her shoulders, but did not take her eyes off his retreating back.

 **Please don't forget to review. Thank you.**

 ** _1_** While there is no doubt that noble ladies in Elsa's time would have had dressing rooms and Elsa almost certainly has one somewhere – given the lack of any clothes storage furniture in her bedroom – this idea of a secret doorway is a bit of indulgence of mine. It's not totally unheard of, but be aware there is zero evidence for it in the film itself. However in Frozen Fever Elsa does appear to have an extra door in the room and her bed in a different position, so it is possible she moved things around and had the secret dressing room door exchanged with a proper one for convenience. More probable though (and more widely accepted as a theory) is that she moved to a different bedroom (that either happened to have the same wallpaper or which she had decorated to her taste), possibly to be closer to her sister as she's no longer hiding herself away or because she is now queen and entitled to a larger room... or both.


End file.
